


Wee Little Thing

by Val_Creative



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family Feels, Humor, Mild Blood, baby merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3443807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balinor has no idea what he's getting himself into when Hunith passes him their newborn son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wee Little Thing

**Author's Note:**

> For anon= "So something based on some art by one of my fave artists on tumblr, balinor didn't flee before merlin was born and is around but has no clue what to do with a baby and Hunith is out plowing fields and being badass like an hour after merlin is born and just leaves merlin with his dad and Balinor is clueless"
> 
> DEANONING FOR MERLICFICDRIVETHRU AS FIC'S AUTHOR!

 

Balinor’s never been particularly afraid of blood being shed, but he was terrified of Hunith’s groans of pain and the bustle of activity around her. 

He shouldn’t have been—she was born a strong woman and gave birth to a healthy, strong son.  _Their_  son, and about an hour ago.

One of the midwives disposes of the bloodied sheets and he resists the urge to gag at the stench. It’s foul if anything, but bless all goodness in this world, because Hunith’s still pink-cheeked and breathing hard and full of energy. 

"Harvest is coming," she explains, already on her feet and handing the gurgling newborn to him. "They need all the help they can get this year—you’ll stay inside for a time with Merlin, won’t you, my love?" 

Because, Hunith knows that  _my love_  are his favorite words that ever existed when put together, and especially coming from her mouth, so she kisses him tenderly on his beard and leaves with two empty pails and a rake.

He really should stop her, but Balinor only stares down at the woolen blanket cradled gingerly to him and the pudgy, squished face of his only son.

"Hello, erm," he begins, as if expecting an answer. Which he’s not getting.

Merlin only gurgles happily, eyes unopened, flailing a tiny, pale fist in the air.

"I don’t know what I’m doing," Balinor admits, sitting with his son on the cot. His heart thuds loudly in his chest, so loud he’s afraid it will make Merlin wail. And he  _hasn’t the faintest_  on what to do then. “I expect you don’t know either…”

Balinor’s fingers absently brush the thin, dark hairs plastered to Merlin’s skull. He’s so  _soft_ and tiny, and Balinor’s arms cradling him feel so  _big_ and manly.

And so, he sits there until nightfall, singing ancient songs about the Old Ways when Merlin begins making a fuss, grinning when Merlin’s tiny hand clenches.

"I knew you were a natural," Hunith whispers in her husband’s ear, sneaking up behind him and wrapping her small hands to Balinor’s shoulders.

 


End file.
